Clajak repressed a sigh, realizing they’d taken all of the officer’s time that they could. “Thank you for speaking to us, High Commander. Perhaps we can talk again some time?”
Bevau gave them both an impudent once-over before bowing. “Any time, my princes. It will be my great pleasure.”
With that tease, he left them to wade in among the battered soldiers. His bellow drowned out the groans. “By the ancestors, look at these worthless carcasses! That’s it? You’re done already? That’s all you could take?” He yelled at the waiting medics, who without a senior officer’s assurances, were not so stupid as to chance Nobek warriors however injured they were. “Get this garbage off my field, if you please. They’re stinking up the place and we have royalty here. This is how you perform for the Crown Princes? Thank the ancestors Emperor Yuder left, or your performance might have shamed him into weeping!”
Egilka watched Bevau harangue his beaten squad with a curious gaze. “What is different about him, Clajak? Raxstad has a good sense of humor, but I’ve never met a Nobek like Bevau.”
Clajak let his eyes wander the glorious topography of the high commander yet again. “I don’t know, but I plan to find out.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’d hoped you were serious about seeing him again.” Egilka gave him a naughty grin, a rare sight from the often too-serious Imdiko. “I will, whether you do or not.”
Clajak returned the smirk with interest. “Not only do I want to see High Commander Bevau again, I want to see every inch of him. Mother of All, what a gorgeous man.”
He and Egilka watched as Bevau stomped over to one of the still-standing soldiers. The Nobek pounded his palm against the victor’s back in hearty congratulations as his fellows were attended to by the medical staff. The man promptly collapsed in a heap under the strength of Bevau’s praise.
Bevau threw his hands up in disgust and then laughed at the blistering sky.